


Hamartia

by Scarlett_Oakenshield



Category: Deadman Wonderland, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Tragedy, Canon Trans Character, Chaplin Sukegawa is on hormones, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Drama & Romance, F/F, F/M, Female Pronouns for Grell Sutcliff, Forbidden Love, Grell is on hormones, London, Love Affair, Macabre, Manga & Anime, Manga Only Characters, Post-Canon, References to Shakespeare, Star-crossed, Symbolism, Theatre, Trans Female Character, Unhappy marriage, William T. Spears and Grell Sutcliff are in an unhappy marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-01 17:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12709632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlett_Oakenshield/pseuds/Scarlett_Oakenshield
Summary: Hamartia: Noun. Definition: A Fatal Flaw leading to the downfall of a tragic hero or heroine.They say "true love conquers all"...but at what cost?2018. Modern day England. It had been years. Years since the days of Ciel Phantomhive and England's Golden Age of the Victorian Era. Yet still, the grim reapers roam the land of the living, screening and collecting the souls just as they've been doomed to do.When a new name appears on the "To-Die" list, Grim Reaper Grell Sutcliff-Spears discovers that she must collect the soul of another pre-op transgender woman. With a feeling of fascination and admiration for the other, she toggles  between her head and her heart as she assesses her in the months leading up to her death. And soon, she finds herself faced with the most terrible, tragic reaping she has ever been charged with. A reaping that will be the ultimate fight between her heart and her head. A reaping that could ultimately lead to a most brutal downfall...





	1. 1-2: The Warning and the Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this because I think it's an interesting concept and because I want to, and Chaplin Sukegawa is underappreciated and needs more love. Barely anyone knows who she is. Which is sad, considering the fact that she is such a great character. Basically, she's a canon transgender woman who appears only in the Deadman Wonderland manga as a supporting character. She's a deadman, and someone who sees herself as a "bright figure". I love her, and I think she has a touching back story. You don't really need to know every detail about "Deadman Wonderland" to understand her character, all you have to do is go read her biography, which I'll link in the text. 
> 
> And yes, I ship her with Grell Sutcliff. I feel like they'd get along very well if they met, and they'd become fast friends, just judging by their personality traits. I feel like then, after some time, their relationship would blossom into something more. So yeah. That's what I'm going with for this story. 
> 
> We know Grell Sutcliff is canonically bisexual anyway. (Recall that she was in love with Madame Red. If you don't believe me, there is literally a quote in the MANGA that says "You could say I fell head over heels for a woman.." (I actually took my hard copy of volume two of the manga to look this up, so FIGHT ME. Jk.) 
> 
> As for Chaplin, well, there's a lot of room for interpretation for her character.) Anyways, justification over, onward with the story...
> 
>  
> 
> **Also, side note. At first, I use male pronouns for Grell, only because Chaplin doesn't yet know that Grell considers herself a woman, and that section was in her point of view.

  1. **The Warning**



 

It was near sunset. The sky was painted in lovely hues of pink, yellow, and orange as the sun slowly sunk over the horizon. There was chilly breeze in the air. It was quiet, except for the murmur of the wind, the ambiance of the white waves crashing against the rough sandy shore and the squawking of gulls as their silhouettes flew passed the setting sun.

 

The beach was empty- well, almost. A trail of lonely footprints made by bare human feet, surrounded by the white fragments of seashells, made a straight path along the shoreline. Off in the distance, a single figure could be seen. She walked slowly across the sand, with the evening breeze buffeting her shoulder-length blonde hair. As she walked, she used one hand to hold up the long skirt of her bohemian peacock printed dress so that the hem of the skirt didn’t get covered in sand. 

 

She had decided to take a walk along the beach after a particular stressful theatre rehearsal to unwind, but she quickly found herself regretting that choice when the cold had suddenly picked up. She hadn’t brought her cardigan with her, and now she was considering turning back because the cold felt like ice against her bare arms. 

 

She was about to, until the sight of another figure a couple leagues ahead caught her attention. Her curiosity worked against her, and she found making her way towards them. They seemed to take no notice of her. Their back was turned facing the waves, and whatever long, dark garment they were wearing was flowing behind them in the breeze. They stood straight and stared blankly at the large expanse of water.           

 

She stopped and stood a few paces away from the other. She realized that they seemed very out of place. The garment that was on was a black and red hooded cloak, and it covered the person’s face. The only feature visible were loose strands of dark red hair that the wind had blown out of the cloak hood. The figure also seemed to be holding something. What it was, she couldn’t tell.  She was at a sudden loss as to if she should talk to them or just walk passed them. 

 

“Curious.” the sound of the figure’s accented, mid to high toned male voice startled her. She jumped. She stood like a deer in the headlights, confused. Was she supposed to respond? 

 

“I know you’re there. No need to be so silent.” 

 

She inched a few paces forward before she stopped again, “What’s...curious?” 

 

“The world’s endless cycle of life, love, and death that never seems to have an end.” the cloaked figure replied, “Like a Shakespearean tragedy, wouldn’t you say?” 

 

“Eto...I suppose so…”  _ Why did he feel a need to point that out?   _

 

“Do you ever sit and ponder your existence?”

 

“I-I...sometimes?”

 

A glint of bright white indicated the mysterious figure’s smile. A smile that, for some reason, sent a sort of chill up her spine. 

 

“Then tell me, Masaru ‘Chaplin’ Sukegawa,” Her heart dropped to her stomach with a powerful lurch.  _ How the h*ll…!? _ The figure turned his head to face her. She was suddenly met with the most piercing pair of yellow-green eyes she had ever seen, “Are you afraid of death?”  Those eyes filled her with terror, and a sudden unpleasant foreboding as they bore into her. They were so piercing they almost burned, and it was almost like they could see through her. She couldn’t stop her plain brown eyes locking into the piercing green ones, widening and her mind from filling up with poisoning terrors of her passed. She took a few steps back. 

 

“How do you know my name? Who are you?” she was suddenly overcome with a feeling of fear and unease. 

 

“That’s an answer for another day, darling.” the crimson-haired figure replied, “But for now, I’d like to know if you’re afraid of death.” 

 

“I’ve seen my fair share of death, and I’d prefer not to witness anymore.” she said. 

 

“It’s all around you, darling. You can’t escape it, no matter how hard you try. And it may come for you sooner than you think.” 

 

She felt her heartbeat increase, fear claw it’s way up and out from her core. What did that mean? Was she going to die soon? There was no way. 

 

“What are you talk-” she stopped mid-sentence. The figure that had been standing there just now was gone. It was like she had blinked and he’d vanished. She blinked a few times more. She managed to convince herself that whatever she had seen was a fatigued hallucination and nothing more. So, she simply turned and fled the beach. She needed to go home and sleep.  

-xXx-

* * *

 

From the top of a rocky cliff overlooking the beach, Grell Sutcliff sat unhooded, with the wind buffeting her crimson hair, and watched Chaplin Sukegawa flee the beach. She glanced down sorrowfully at the woman’s name on the to-die list, and she once again reread the first couple sentences of the profile that had written itself:

 

_ “My name is Chaplin Sukegawa. I am a transgender woman. I am stronger than men and kinder than women. That’s why I can punch anyone equally. I try to be a bright, inspirational figure for anyone and everyone around me... ”  _

  
  


“Oh Chaplin, Chaplin, wherefore art thou Chaplin?” she spoke aloud to the profile with sympathy, sorrow, and pain. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt sorrow for a human. Normally, she could do her job with no problem or remorse...but this...this was a special case. In a few short months time, Chaplin was going to die, and Grell was responsible for reaping the soul of the only other woman like her that she had ever encountered.  

* * *

 

  1. **The Meeting**



Two days later, everything was back to normal. Chaplin was able to push the unsettling meeting to the back of her mind and carry on as normal. 

“Alright my dears!” she announced to the acting class she was dismissing, “Remember, auditions for  _ Romana and Juliet  _ start next week! Make sure to show up thirty minutes before your audition time, with your monologue ready! Those of you auditioning will do wonderfully, I know it!” 

Upon stating this, she dismissed her class. With a loud cheer and noisy chatter, everyone left the stage where class was held. Besides for a straggler or two, the theatre had essentially emptied and the Proscenium set up went almost silent. There was no sound except for the hum of the air conditioner and the quiet murmur of the stragglers as they made their way out through the backstage exits into the green room area. Now, she would get to enjoy a few hours of quiet before the cast of  _ A Midsummer Night's Dream  _ showed up for the evening performance.

The theatre she worked at had decided to have a year of modernized Shakespearean classics. It didn’t surprise her though, Shakespeare had originated in England after all. 

She had left Japan and moved to the United Kingdom about a year ago. She’d left Japan to escape harsh discrimination and bad memories, as well as so she could start her transition process sooner. She wanted to start fresh. 

After being released from Deadman Wonderland and from prison, she got a job as a director at a small local community theatre in Japan. It was fine for a while. She enjoyed coaching and directing children and juveniles, yet something never felt quite right. Her students and staff respected her pronouns and who she was as a whole, but that didn’t change the fact she suffered discrimination and ridicule. It also didn’t change the fact that everyone knew the infamous story of Deadman Wonderland, and the fact that she was one of the fabled “Deadmen”. She did not like that so many knew about it, because she honestly preferred not to talk about her branch of sin. She had tried to fix her reputation, and try to make it so that she was seen as a successful director, mentor, and mother figure to her students and actors as opposed to a “deadman”. People took notice of her, but it still didn’t work. Everyone still remembered the fact that she was a “deadman”-the fact that made people wary of her didn’t go away. 

So, she decided she’d wanted to go to a place where no one knew who she was. Thus, she applied for, and surprisingly was given a job as a play director and teacher at a local theatre in Brighton in East Sussex. During the day she taught acting classes and director workshops, and during the late afternoons and evenings, she directed and put on productions.

Life was so much better now. She was happy with her job, and she was happy living as a single woman in her little flat on the fourth floor of her apartment building. She also loved Brighton. She was near the beach, and she loved to take walks down the streets. And to top everything off, she was finally on hormones,which she both loved and hated. She loved them because she was starting her process of becoming a woman, but she hated them because they were hormones and they made her mood swings zany. Despite the mood swings though, everything was as it should be. 

-xXx-

The sudden noise of one of the heavy entrance doors swinging open interrupted Chaplin’s thoughts as she tidied up the stage. It startled her, causing her to jump slightly. She turned. A bright figure entered the room. Their long crimson hair flowing behind them as they strutted through the doors in shiny black Mary Janes and red thigh high stockings adorned with little black bows on the top. The figure also wore a black pleated miniskirt with a form-fitting quarter-sleeved red shirt tucked into it, that accentuated feminine curves and an usually flat chest, as well as a long crimson coat at the elbows that seemed out of time. 

“Hello~” the red figure greeted brightly. They waved from the aisle between the seats as she made her way towards the apron of the stage where Chaplin was currently seated. As the figure drew closer, Chaplin immediately recognized them and stood up. The flamboyant voice on the fence between male and female and the long red hair and piercing eyes were the telltale signs that it was the strange person from two evenings ago. As the figure grew closer it filled her with more and more unease. Again, Chaplin felt her blood run cold, followed by the bubbling of her nerves. 

Why? It was because of the eyes. Those beautiful, terrible yellow-green eyes that were so bright they seemed to glow. Those eyes that bore into her and seemed to see through her outward guise. Those eyes that were so bright and strange it was like they weren’t fully human at all. 

“It’s you--y-you’re the person from the beach.” those were the only words that formed in Chaplin’s mouth. 

“Yes, that would be me.” the redhead replied. They stopped at the base of the stage and sprung up with almost no effort. They did so with such agility and grace that they landed with two feet on the shiny wood, with only a slight bend in the knees before standing up straight again. They were uncomfortably close and the blonde found herself taking a few steps away from them.

“No need to be so afraid, darling. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m simply here to make an inquiry.” the redhead stated simply. 

“Okay...go on then?”                 

“But before that, let me introduce myself. My name is Grell Sutcliff. I am a lady with a passion for theatre, and a strong adoration for the color red and men in black suits.” She held out a hand that Chaplin warily shook. 

“Chaplin Sukegawa. I’m a director here.” The blonde replied. They made eye contact. 

“So I’ve heard. Pleasure to meet you!” Grell smiled. Chaplin was taken aback. Beneath the bright red lips were two rows of pointed, shark-like teeth. She’d never seen teeth like that on a human before. It was chilling, but she wasn’t about to say that. It’d be rude of her to do so. 

Other than that, though, Grell Sutcliff had a pretty face. It was pale and flawless. Her cheeks were lightly dusted with natural blush. Over her piercing eyes, she wore red glasses that were narrow framed and a bit like an upside down pentagon. There was a beaded chain on them, with little skull charms that were level with the bridge of her little nose, nearest to the the tip. The eyes were lined thickly, winged, with the the kohl color both tightlined and on the waterline. They were also adorned with fake lashes. Her lids had vibrant red shadow that matched her lipstick. Her eyebrows were slanted upwards, giving her expression a permanent appearance of sorrow or confusion. However, it also seemed to add some sort of youthful innocence about her as well. The hair at the top of her head had spikes that stuck out on the sides. Her red fringe swooped over her forehead, with a strand down the middle of her face and curved to Chaplin’s left hand side. There were also two long strands of hair that pooled down over her chest. She also looked like she was around the same age as Chaplin was.    

  
  


“Umm hello? Are you even listening to me? Hello there! Wake up, Chaplin!” the blonde was pulled out of her trance with Grell’s pale, slender hand waving in front of her face.

“Come again? I’m sorry, I spaced out.” she snapped back to reality and blushed when she realized she’d been so busy scrutinizing the pretty redhead that she completely missed what she was saying.

In irritation, Grell frowned and blew on the piece of fringe that brushed over her nose. “Who can audition for the productions here?” she asked.

“Anyone, really. We have youth productions and normal productions meant for high schoolers and young adults.”    

“Oh brilliant! I’d like to audition for  _ Romana and Juliet.  _ Do you have any audition forms left?” 

“I do. They’re in my office. Would you like one?”

“Of course! That’s why I asked! I adore Shakespeare and I’ve been in my fair share of Shakespearean plays, with the classic tragedy of star-crossed lovers included! It’s one of my personal favorites, you know! Forbidden love, drama, and tragedy is what I live for!”  

Chaplin couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps this peculiar woman wasn’t so bad after all. 

“Alright then, let me go and get you an audition form and a sc-”

“No need for the script, honey! I know this play like the back of my hand!” 

“Well alright. Just the form then.” and with that, she exited the theatre and headed into the main hallways of the old building.  

-xXx-

Grell watched the pretty blonde woman leave, before she sat on the edge of the apron, swinging her legs over the empty pit. Normally, she would not put such an amount of effort as this into assessing a soul she was to collect, but there was something special about Ms. Sukegawa. She was going to thoroughly assess her, because the emotions part of her brain were telling her not to reap her, but the rational part of her brain said she had a job to do. 

-xXx-

A few moments later, Chaplin returned to the stage and handed Grell the small stapled packet. 

“There you go.” she said, “Auditions start next week.” 

“Alright!” Grell jumped off the stage and swaggered down the hall towards the back doors, “I’ll see you later then, darling~” and with that, the strange redhead was out the door. 

-xXx-

That evening, after she had grabbed something to eat, Chaplin was back at the theatre. She hadn’t yet gotten the chance to see the theatre’s modern production of  _ A Midsummer Night's Dream,  _ so she was going to see it tonight. She was there quite early, and since she worked, she had no need to stop at the box office first. 

She picked a seat in the middle of the audience, once where she could clearly see the stage from a comfortable distance away. With the program she didn’t need in hand, she waited quietly for the director to come up and introduce the production. While she waited, she messed around on social medias on her cell phone, primarily Instagram and Facebook. She barely noticed the person coming down the aisle towards her. She only became aware of her presence when a voice cut into her thoughts. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” the person asked.

Chaplin looked up for a fraction of second, “No, go ahead.” With the ruffling of fabric and paper, the person took the seat beside her. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me.” the voice cut into her thoughts once more. 

The blonde looked up again. Lo and behold, there was Grell Sutcliff in all her crimson glory sitting beside her. 

“Oh, hello Sutcliff-san.” she said politely. 

“Grell, please.” the redhead replied, “No need to address me so formerly, it makes me feel old.” 

“Oh...I’m sorry. Force of habit.”

The redhead laughed, “It’s alright. I’m merely joking, darling. Anyway...a modernized version of  _ A Midsummer Night’s Dream,  _ hmm?” 

“Yeah, our theatre is doing a Shakespearean theme this year. Two comedies and two tragedies.”  

“Oh, how lovely!” Grell replied excitedly, “Which ones?”

“For Fall we’re doing this one, and Hamlet, and spring is  _ Romana and Juliet  _ and  _ Twelfth Night.  _

“All fantastic Shakespeare plays! You know, I was in a production of  _ Hamlet  _ once. A long time ago. It was a charity performance for orphans.” 

“Oh. I see. Who did you play?”

“I was Ophelia.” 

“Aww.” Chaplin commented, “That poor girl is the most innocent character in the play.” 

Grell laughed. 

“The performance was a mess, and most of the acting was atrocious. And it strayed so far from the plot it ended up not being a tragedy in the end.” 

“Oh, goodness. That sounds terrible.”

“Oh, but the children loved it. So it was definitely worth it.” 

Chaplin chuckled, “That’s good. I’m glad it worked out. How long ago was this?”

“A long time ago. I don’t even remember the year. 88 or 89. I don’t exactly remember.” 

1988 or 1989? How old was Grell exactly? She only looked to be in her early thirties like Chaplin herself was, not her 40’s or 50’s. However, she knew it was impolite to ask a lady her age, and she assumed Grell probably would take offense if she did. 

“Oh, I see.” 

“Anyways!  _ A Midsummer Night’s Dream!  _ It’s one of my favorite Shakespeare comedies. I do prefer tragedy, but I love a good comedy every once in awhile.” 

“I’m indifferent to both. It depends on the day.” 

The lights suddenly went dim. 

“Oh! It looks like the show’s starting!” Grell said with realization. She turned to face the stage and the show began.

-xXx- 

At intermission, the two women could be found conversing in the lobby by the concessions. It seemed that they shared a few interests, and each found the other to be pleasant company. 

-xXx-

The show ended later than scheduled, as was expected. Chaplin was quite tired by the curtain call. She was ready to go home and crawl into bed. 

Her and Grell walked together out the double doors of the theatre, and they stood outside and conversed for a few moments. 

“That was a wonderful show!” Grell declared, “What did you think of it, Chaplin?” 

“I enjoyed it.” she replied.

“The acting was good and I liked the modern take on it.” Grell said, “And it makes me all the more excited for   _ Romana and Juliet.”  _

The director smiled. She was glad of that, and it was safe to say that she was looking forward to seeing Grell's audition. 

“I look forward to your audition.” 

Grell steepled her hands and rested them on the back of her head with a smile, “Trust me, you won't be disappointed.” she replied, “Anyway~ I hope to see around, Chaplin. You seem like an interesting person. Perhaps we can go out for luncheon sometime.”

“Umm...sure. That sounds nice.”

“Wonderful! Well, in that case I bid you goodnight!” 

“Goodnight.” 

With that, she walked down the street, stopping at the corner and leaping up, disappearing into the dark, gone without a trace. It was like Chaplin blinked and the mysterious woman had disappeared. 

The blonde stood for a moment and stared at the spot on the street that Grell had been standing on only moments before. She blinked several times and shook her head, before she made her way towards the street corner to hail a cab, walking with haste, heels clicking against the cracked pavement. On her way, and as she climbed into the back of the cab, she thought once again about how strange Grell was. 

-xXx-

With her chainsaw limply in her hand and her “To Die” list in the other, Grell stood on the edge of building, with the wind her hair and coat billowing behind her, and sorrowfully watched Chaplin get into the cab and disappear. 

It really was a shame. With a sigh, she ran and jumped across to the next rooftop, going the opposite way Chaplin was, disappearing into the night. She had had enough for today.  

-xXx-

Grell sighed as she twisted her key in her lock and entered her dimly lit flat. She closed the door behind her with a louder thud than necessary, and clicked the lock in place. She hung up her crimson coat next to the familiar black trench. 

“Will, I'm home.” she said, fatigue and unhappiness in her voice. 

She followed the familiar light of the office down the small hallway. Her partner was sitting at his desk on his laptop, his office lit only by the floor lamp beside him. His hair was slightly tousled, as a few strands had come loose and hung limply on his forehead. His rectangular glasses were on the bridge of his nose as he stared at his screen and typed away on his keyboard. He barely looked up long enough for her to give him a chaste kiss. 

“Still working at this hour?” Grell asked with a sigh. 

“You seem less energetic than usual.” William stated bluntly, dodging the obvious answer to the question.

“Long day.” she replied. There was a block of silence, with only the sound of fingers drumming on the laptop keyboard. 

“...Are you hungry? It’s too late to cook something...but I can warm up leftovers.” 

“Fine.” his voice was monotone as usual. 

“Are you going to eat in here...or did you want to eat at the table with me?”

“I’ll just eat here. I’ve too much paperwork to take a break.”

“Okay.”  Grell didn’t hide the disappointment in her voice. With that, she turned and left the office to leave him to do his work. She stopped at the doorway and glanced over her shoulder. She didn’t know why she did, but she did. However, he had already fixed his frowning expression back on the laptop screen and took no notice of her, so she simply turned and went into the kitchen. 

-xXx-

A few minutes later, she returned to the office with the small, steaming plate of leftover spaghetti and set it on William’s desk. 

“Thanks.” he said half-heartedly, adjusting his glasses. 

“Yes, of course.” she turned to leave the office once more. 

“Grell.” Will’s voice stopped her at the door.

“Hmm?”

“Did you take your hormone pills?” 

A ghost of a smile appeared across her lips, “Yes. I did earlier.” 

“Good.”

No other words were exchanged between them as Grell made her way into the dining alcove to eat dinner alone, as she always did. Once she’d finished that, she rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. She went to collect William’s plate, which he’d scarcely made a dent in. She knew there was no point in urging him to eat anymore, unless she wanted to be coldly dismissed by him, so she simply gave some of it to the dog and threw the rest out. She then went to take a shower, before retiring to her bed for the night, with a book in hand. With his short little legs, their corgi jumped up on the bed and wriggled his way into her lap and arms, bumping her arm with his nose. 

She chuckled half heartedly, scratching him slowly between the ears. She was suddenly feeling down, and it seemed that he sensed it. 

“I don’t understand, Charlie.” she began, “Why is it that even though I have a husband...I still feel so lonely?” 

The dog’s ears twitched and he cocked his head. She sighed, and wrapped her arms around him, picking him up and burying her face into the fur on the back of his neck. He licked her hand as if to say:  _ I don’t know why you’re upset, but I want you to feel better.  _

She smiled softly. She then proceeded to put the dog back down in her lap, and picking up her book after she did so. She didn’t read for long though, because she was quickly ready for bed. She glanced sadly at the empty left bedside. William hadn’t come to bed, and probably wouldn’t until after she was asleep. Her only bed mate was the dog, who was currently asleep at her side. 

“Goodnight Charlie.” she said, and clicked off the bedside lamp and then slid down under the covers, pulling them over her and turning on her side.

* * *

 

Chaplin's Bio:   <http://deadmanwonderland.wikia.com/wiki/Chaplin_Sukegawa>

 

* * *

 


	2. Part 3: The Coincidence

**III. The Coincidence**

The next morning, Grell once again awoke to an empty bed. It was made up on William's side, and his suit jacket that usually hung on their coat rack was gone too. The only evidence that he had slept last night was the one-quarter full glass of water that had not been there when she'd gone to bed, and the fact that her book was closed and on her nightstand, as opposed to where it had previously been lying open and spine up at the end of the duvet. The book was replaced by Charlie, who was curled in a blond and white ball in its place.

She yawned and stretched her arm and grabbed her glasses, before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Charlie lifted his head and followed her. Her bare feet touched the carpeted floor, and she made her way across the room into the master bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face, and quickly ran a brush through her long, thick hair. She moved rather hastily, nearly trimming on the hem of her long, red-tinted, Victorian style nightgown. She was hoping to catch William before he left for the office.

He was drinking coffee and reading the morning paper, which, for some reason, they still received regularly, despite the fact that they were currently in the age of technology.

"Good morning." she said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Good morning." William replied, voice monotone and half-hearted as usual.

She wanted to give him a kiss, but she knew he didn't like morning breath, and he was too focused on his paper to turn his head to receive it. So, she settled for pecking him on the cheek. She then fed Charlie, before she made her own pot of coffee. She sat down at the little table beside him with the steaming mug. This was one of the only times the couple was together during the week. For some reason, though, William wasn't talking. She felt like he was upset with her for some reason...though she couldn't think of anything she could have possibly done to upset him. With the rustle of paper, he set the newsprint on the table and met gazes with his wife.

"Why were you home so late last night?" he finally looked up from his paper, "You never work overtime."

"I was at the theatre. They were showing  _A Midsummer Night's Dream._ I didn't think you'd mind...you always work from home...I figured you'd want me out of your way."

"So you deserted your place to go to a play?"

"No, I didn't! I was observing someone on the "To-Die" list. She happened to be at the theatre. I also finished the other two reapings I had as well." she retorted, "You know my days of not taking my job seriously are behind us now. I got myself together to make you happy. I have to keep you happy. That's my job as a wife."  _And your job as my husband…_

"Observing victims is for students. Not professional reapers. Why are you wasting your time doing that?"

"I'm being thorough. You always say that reapers don't make errors. So I'm merely ensuring that she's meant to be on the "To-Die" list."

William adjusted his glasses, "Fine. Glad to hear that you are being thorough. Just make sure not to over analyze or let your emotions get in the way of your job."

"I know, Will. You always tell me that."

"Quite so. Anyway. You only have a couple of reapings scheduled for today if I am not mistaken."

"Yes. I was going to do the grocery shopping between my soul collections."

"I need you to pay the rent as well, I'm not going to have any time to do so myself."

"Of course. And I'll have dinner ready for you when you get home."

"Good." he glanced over at the digital clock on the oven, "I must be going now."

"Okay, my love. I'll see you when you get home."

The dark-haired man got up and put his coffee cup beside the sink. Grell walked him to the door, and helped him with his coat, before he gave her a chaste kiss goodbye and left the flat. She locked the door behind him and sighed, before she turned and headed back into the bedroom to get ready for her own day.

Once she'd gotten dressed, she put the harness and leash on her dog to take him for a morning walk.

-xXx-

As she walked down the quiet streets of the grim reaper realm, a feeling of loneliness once again swept over her. It was peaceful, but it was a lonely peaceful, and the silence gave her far too much time to have bouts of random thought streams. Some were pleasant, and some were not, but more than anything, there was a feeling of despair and solemness that set over her. She knew getting emotionally involved with a soul destined to die was a terrible idea. Most of the time, she could avoid that feeling. But in the case of Chaplin, she could not fight that feeling, and she found it frustrating.

These frivolous thoughts plagued her mind for the entirety of the morning, putting her in a bad mood. She continued to be in this state after she dropped her dog off at home and began heading to the land of the living to collect the two charges she had for the day. One was before luncheon, and the other was to be collected in the late afternoon near five o'clock PM.

-xXx-

The first soul was dull. Some young, average girl that had no love life to speak of. So, of course there wasn't anything particularly interesting about her cinematic record.

With a sigh, she sent the soul to the next world, stamped the red "Completed" circle onto the girl's profile, and then closed up the large, old book. Then, she checked the time on her cell phone. It was about half-past noon. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn't eaten anything for breakfast this morning, so now she was hungry. Deciding she needed a pick-me-up, she chose go to one of her favorite cafes in Brighton. She was only about twenty or so minutes from the town if she used the agility and speed she'd been given when she had become a grim reaper to get to her destination. She leapt onto the nearest rooftop from where she stood on the pavement and made her way across, nimbly leaping from building to building. She loved the feeling she got when she leapt through the air. It was such a carefree feelings- what with the adrenaline she felt, the wind buffeting her long red hair and how fast everything moved past her. It made her feel like she was flying.

It cheered her up some, and by the time she got to the cafe she was in a slightly better mood. It was then that she noticed that the sun had decided to peek its head out from behind the clouds in England's overcast sky. It perpetuated a bit of warmth that she hoped lasted for awhile. The familiar sight of the cafe building with its soft yellow and white painted exterior and planters with tiny, blooming pink flowers on the balconies filled her with a familiar tranquil joy. It was always so pleasant. The outdoor seating area, set up on the red cobbled pavement was surrounded by striped roping, held up by pillars displaying the menus. There were neatly set square tables with umbrellas over each table, set with white tablecloths and black chairs. Many of them were filled with groups of people young and old laughing and engaging in pleasant conversation. There were black and white suited waiters and waitresses moving about the areas as well, with warm expressions on their faces as they took orders and served food and drink.

She looked around for an open table. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any. Everyone was flocking to the restaurant for the lunchtime rush.  _Dammit. Looks like I'll be eating inside. Oh well…_

However, her keen eyes were quickly drawn to a small corner table close to one of the large windows when she caught sight of a familiar figure with blonde hair. Grell smiled. She wouldn't have to be miserable eating alone today. Tucking her thick To-Die list under her arm, she skipped over to Chaplin's table.

"Hello Chaplin!" she greeted cheerfully.

The woman looked up from her menu, "Oh! Hello Grell." she was smiling, looking as alive and vibrant as she had been the day before.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

"No, go ahead." Chaplin returned her smiling expression.

"Thank you, dear!" Grell pulled out the other chair and set her heavy book on the table without thinking.

"That's a big book." Chaplin commented, "What is it called?"

Grell snapped her gaze toward the large, thick book with the the yellowing pages and the aged and faded brown leather cover.  _Oh crap!_ She pulled it off the table.

"It's...umm...files for work."  _Not exactly a lie…_  she said, "It's dead boring, really."

"Ahh. I see."

"Anyway," Grell put the  _To-Die_ list under her chair, "How are you?"

"I'm fine, yourself?"

"I'm doing well, thank you for asking. The sun finally came out so I'm happy about that."

"I would agree. The only thing I don't like about England is the constantly cold and overcast weather."

There was a block of silence, until Chaplin waved down a nearby waiter, "Excuse me, sir?"

It seemed as though he did not hear her the first time, his back was turned as he cleaned off one of the other tables.

"Excuse me, sir?" Chaplin repeated.

He turned to acknowledge her, "Sorry, did you need something?"

"Yes. I was wondering if I could get another menu for my friend here."  _Friend, hmm?_ Grell quite liked the sound of that. It made her feel good to know that Chaplin didn't think her an irritation like a lot of her co-workers and her husband seemed to.

"Of course! Let me go and grab one for you, Ma'am."

"Thank you, dear." Grell replied.

The waiter nodded and went to fetch another menu. He returned quickly, only for Grell to take a couple seconds to skim the menu she already had memorized and put it down. Before they ordered their food. They actually both ordered the same dish: clam chowder.

-xXx-

While they waited, and after they received their lunch the two women were engaged in pleasant conversation. They talked about life, and geeked out about theater. However, Grell did most of the talking. She talked so fast and animated, telling amusing stories, that Chaplin sometimes did nothing but nodded along, since she was difficult to understand at times, as English was the Japanese woman's second language.

"It seems like the more we talk and run into each other, the more we have in common." Grell commented, sipping on her chowder, "It's quite nice actually."

Chaplin nodded in agreement. "I've never met someone that I had so much in common with. It's nice to get to know someone so similar to me."

"I know, right? Anyway, I've another question for you. Are you on hormones too?"

"Yes. I am, actually."

"It's miserable sometimes, don't you think? I've never wanted so much chocolate before in my life."

Chaplin laughed, "Yes. It is. But when I think about the long term effects and changes it's going to have on my body, it's far more tolerable."

"I would definitely agree with that."

-xXx-

For awhile, they ate in a companionable silence. After they had finished, once they'd been at the cafe for a couple of hours and exchanged phone numbers, Chaplin was first to suggest they leave.

"I really must be going now. I'm teaching class in less than an hour." she said.

"I should get going too, I have a couple of errands to run and then I have to go back to work."

"It was wonderful to see you again." Chaplin said.

"Likewise. I had a lovely time." Grell agreed.

The blonde smiled, before picking up her purse that hung from the back of her chair and swinging it over her shoulder. Grell followed suit, pushing out her chair and picking up her  _To Die_ list from underneath her chair.

They made their way out of the cafe sitting area, walking side by side in step with one another. However, they did not walk together for long, as they quickly realized they were going separate ways. Grell was going to do her grocery shopping, and Chaplin was going back to her theatre, which were at two opposite ends of the streets.

"I'll see you at next week's auditions if I don't see you before then." Chaplin said.

"Alright darling, I'll see you later then."

Chaplin bowed curtly and turned and headed towards the end of the street they were walking alongside of. Grell kept her smile on her face as she waved after her, but the moment Chaplin was gone, she opened her book to her file, glanced at it, sighed, and sadly shook her head.  _Such a shame, truly…_

There was no longer denying the fact that she had taken quite a liking to this other woman. It had only been a couple of days, but they had spent a lot of time talking and getting to know one another, and Chaplin was both amazing and fascinating.

She closed the book, tucked it under her arm, and turned and walked down the street away from the direction of theatre, heading to the grocery store.

-xXx-

After finishing her tedious grocery shopping, she went back home to let the dog out to relieve himself while she put away the groceries she had acquired. After she had finished that, she and Charlie went downstairs to give their landlord his check. She then spent the couple of hours she had left before the scheduled reaping watching her television dramas and sipping on coffee.

She left early enough to be at the site thirty minutes before the reaping. The wait was tedious, and the elderly man's soul proved to be less dull than the girl's had been, but dull nonetheless. She stamped his file feeling unsatisfied, and then returned her  _To-Die_ list to the grim reaper library, before going back to her apartment.

When she arrived home to stay, she remounted her chainsaw death scythe onto the shelf it sat on when she wasn't using it. Then, she changed into her house-lounging clothes- baggy sweats and a simple, form-fitting, short-sleeved crop top- in a striking shade of red, of course. After she'd changed, she pulled her long crimson hair into a quick updo. Once she'd finished that, she put her her frilly red and white polka-dot apron and got started on dinner.

It was a very simple chicken and rice meal, and she finished just in time for William's usual arrival home from work, which was around 6:30 in the evening. She set the table nicely with plates, glasses of water, silver, and napkins. Once that was done, instead of sitting down, she did the dishes so she would not be tempted to eat the delicious smelling food. She finished the dishes and checked the time. It was nearly 7, which made her a bit worried. A majority of the time, William was home by no later than 6:35 at the absolute latest. He hated overtime at the office. However, it was confusing to her. He hated overtime...but when he came home, he did more work. She sighed. She supposed she understood him wanting the comforts of his own home after and long day at the office, even he did come home just to close himself in his personal office and do more work.

-xXx-

William walked through the door at 7:15. Grell was sitting on the couch watching  _The Notebook_ with Charlie in her lap when the door swung open.

When she heard her husband get home, she quickly wiped away her tears and runny makeup with a tissue before pausing the movie and getting up.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, "About time you got home, darling!"

"Work." he said bluntly.

"Yes, I know." she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a chaste kiss, "I tried to wait for you for dinner, but it was getting cold so I ate already. Do you want me to warm up your plate for you.

"Yes. Fine." he adjusted his spectacles.

"In the meantime, why don't you sit down at the table." His coat was barely off and she was pushing him towards their table. She forced him to sit down and then went to pour him a new glass of water, using the old one to water a plant in her kitchen window.

"Grell, you're showing your midriff again." his voice was monotone and condescending as usual.

"And? It's 2018, not 1889. Women wearing crop tops and showing a bit more skin is  _a la mode._ " she replied as she put his plate in the microwave, "I would have thought you liked seeing a bit more of my skin."

"Honestly. You aren't the slightest bit cold?"

"No." she replied.

The dark-haired reaper sighed.

"Why do crop tops bother you, Will? I wear them to show off the womanly, hourglass body shape I'm achieving."

He studied her for a moment.  _Okay William...now would be the time to say, "you do look beautiful…"_

"Honestly. You know how it is. It's hard for me to adjust to fashion trends when they constantly change. Especially since both of us have been around since the 19th century."

"Okay. Fine. Although, I am quite enjoying this era of acceptance, self-expression, and less censorship."

"Yes, I know." he replied, and then added, "I suppose this would be the time for me to say that I am glad you can finally achieve the body you want."

Grell squealed happily, "It's wonderful, isn't it? And you know, I'm very much anticipating getting approved for surgery in the near future."

Will nodded and adjusted his glasses, "Speaking of that, did you take your pills today?"

"Of course I did, you know I never forget to take them." she replied, setting William's plate down in front of him. She then refilled her water glass and joined him at the table, sitting across from him. They sat together in silence, but it still made Grell feel a bit happier, considering the fact that little moments like this reminded her that William still did love her very much.

Dinner was a short affair, as usual. William tried to dismiss himself to his office to do more work. However, Grell stopped him from doing so.

"William," she said, voice etched with concern. She set a hand on his shoulder and said, "Please don't shut yourself in your office. You've already worked overtime all week. Take a break, darling. Finish a movie with me? Come to bed?" what was meant to be statement sounded more like a pleading question than anything else.

William was silent for a moment as he considered her request. Eventually, he sighed, adjusted his glasses and said, "Alright. I suppose."

Again, Grell squealed with delight, jumping up and doing a little twirl. Then, she whisked William's plate from him and rinsed it off, before putting it in the dishwasher and then pulling William out of his seat.

"Let me go change into something more comfortable first though." William replied.

"Alright, my love! Hurry up though! I want to finish this movie!"

"Honestly." William adjusted his glasses before walking to the back of the apartment into their bedroom.


	3. IV: Ladies' Day Out

 

**IV: Ladies' Day Out**

 

Over the course of the next week, aside from that one evening, everything returned to the same cold distance that’d been there for the last few years. The nighttime reapings had increased, so a lot of the time, Grell and William didn’t see each other. Their brief conversations and interactions occurred in the morning, and sometimes, but rarely, late at night.

 

That was excluding the two days a week Grell taught practical skills and was at the Dispatch Headquarters.  Even then, though, she rarely saw William. He was cooped up in his office for the majority of the day and she didn’t want to bother him. She’d also have reapings to attend to on those days, and William never took his lunch breaks, so it was like they weren’t at the headquarters together at all. It was primarily just a slightly longer morning together.

 

-xXx-

 

The redhead sighed. It was a normal evening. It was a couple of days before her audition. She did not have any nighttime reapings today, so she was stuck at home waiting on her husband, who, of course, was still at the office even though his day had ended nearly an hour ago. Since all of her household duties were done, she elected to practice her lines in front of mirror and fill out the contract and profile she’d been given. There was also a script stapled to the back of it. She was actually glad of that, considering the fact that it was only after she had left the theatre that she realized the script would not be the original text since it was a modernized version of the Shakespearean tragedy.

 

-xXx-

 

       She stood in front of the mirror on the wall next to her bedside and rehearsed her monologue, as well as a couple of Juilet’s lines.

 

She drew in a breath, and began speaking in a dramatic, theatrical tone:

 

_“Oh Romana, Romana, why do you have to be Romana? Forget about your father and change your name. Or else, if you won’t change your name, just swear you’ll love me and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.  It’s your name that is your enemy. You’d still be yourself even if you stopped being a Montague. What is a Montague anyway? It means nothing. Oh, be some other name! What does a name even mean? That which we call a rose, by any other name, would still smell as sweet. Romana would be just as perfect even if she wasn’t called Romana. Romana, lose your name. Romana, trade in your name-- which has nothing to do with you at all-- and take--”_

 

The door opening caught her attention. She jumped slightly, turning from the mirror to look over her shoulder. William had entered the room.

 

“Hello Will.” she greeted.

 

“What are you doing?” the dark-haired reaper inquired.

 

“Oh...I was just...umm…”

 

“Rehearsing scripts again?”

 

Grell sighed. “Yes.” She begrudgingly handed her packet over to her husband.

 

“You’re planning to be in another play, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes I am. Auditions are the day after tomorrow.” she responded. She was bit nervous now, considering the fact that she knew William didn’t exactly approve of her going around being in plays when she had work to do.  

 

“Honestly Grell,”

 

_Here we go again._

 

“You shouldn’t be putting on plays when you’ve work to do. How will you be able to balance rehearsals and soul collecting?”

 

“I manage, and you know it.” she replied defensively, “And in my defense, I am technically doing work. The human whose soul I’m to collect is the play’s director.”

 

William sighed, “I still do not understand why you feel the need to observe someone who is supposed to die in four months. You’re a professional, not a student.”

 

“Because she’s interesting, alright.” Grell replied.

 

“Strange. I don't recall you ever caring about human beings, let alone other women. You always seem to spite them instead.”

 

There was a block of silence, before Grell finally said, “...She’s trans like I am.”

 

William let out a deep sigh, “Honestly. The competency of the records department just dropped. They should have known better than to put a transgender woman on your roster. I will consult them immediately.”

 

“No you will not.”

 

Will’s expression changed to a shocked, taken aback one. This was the first time in a long, long time that her tone was imperative and blunt. She seemed slightly taken aback too. He was still her boss, even if he was her husband.

 

“It really isn’t necessary. I’ll be fine. I can handle it.” Grell reworded her last response.

 

Will shook his head. The redhead was a very emotional person, and a rational like himself had a hard time believing what she had just said.

 

“Grell, don’t try to play me for a fool. I do not think you will be able to handle this reaping correctly.”

 

She opened her mouth to try and protest.

 

“...Which is why I think it is in your best interest if you do not audition for her play and I arrange to have her name moved onto someone else’s roster.

 

Grell felt herself burning with a sudden anger, “Are you saying that I can’t control my emotions, William?” she challenged.

 

“No. What I’m saying is that-- think about this--psychologically, we are drawn to others like ourselves. If you feel a connection to this woman you’re supposed to reap, it is going to interfere with your job and impair your neutral judgement. There is-

 

“There is no place for emotion in a job.” she finished his sentence, “Yes, Will. I know. And I can assure you that I’ll be fine. I’ve reaped others with similar personality traits too. I’ve become desensitized.”

 

William didn’t believe a word she said. He may not have been the best at understanding emotions, but he understood enough about Grell’s emotions that he knew how negative of an effect reaping others like herself had on her. She got way too involved with those types of humans, just as she did when she had to collect the souls of children.

 

After reaping them- both the souls of those in the LGBT community or the souls of children- she would act out in ways she shouldn’t, and then close herself off for several weeks that followed. He hated seeing her like that. Not only did it negatively affect her already fragile emotional state, but it greatly impacted her competence and work ethic, which did not benefit him, her, nor anyone else in the Dispatch.

 

She put a hand on his shoulder. “William, it’s my job. I can handle it, don’t worry.” She locked her sincere green gaze with his.  

 

He sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Fine.” he said, “I won’t inconvenience the records department. But in exchange I do not want you auditioning for that play. And I want you to stay away from her so that you have a less of a chance of becoming emotionally attached.”

 

“Are you calling me unfaithful, William?” she challenged, suddenly angry.

 

_Well that came out of bloody nowhere._

 

“No. That is not what I was implying.”

 

“But you’re doubting me. You don’t think I can handle it.”

 

“You’re right. I don’t think you can handle it. You already have enough emotional episodes as it is. You don’t need this to make them worse.”

 

 _If that was your way of showing her your concern, it was poor._ His conscience nagged.

 

“You’re so mean.” she said, “You’re using my emotions and who I am against me! That’s not fair!”

 

“No Grell. That’s not it at all.” William said, “I am merely trying to…” he trailed off, he couldn’t think of how to word what he was trying to say.

 

_Why is she so upset?_

 

“You know what, fine. That’s just it then! I won’t audition for the play! I’ll stay away from that woman and make her feel like total sh-- by suddenly avoiding her. And it’ll be your bloody fault because all _YOU_ care about is work. Work this! Work that! Everything has to be for work! Nothing can inconvenience work! Life has to be completely dedicated to work! Which apparently includes depriving your wife of everything she loves!”

 

_Why in God’s name is she so angry all of the sudden?_

 

“Grell!” William exclaimed, “You’re being unreasonable.” he said in his stern, condescending manner.

 

“Unreasonable!? You’re calling me unreasonable now!? I have every right to be upset! You’re forbidding me from doing something I love to do and being around her simply because you don’t want my job to be inconvenienced!”

 

“I’m forbidding it because I _LOVE_ you!” this was the first time in--goodness he couldn’t even remember at this point-- but it was the first time in a long time he’d raised his voice.

 

Grell stopped, and her eyes widened, taken aback. There was a tense silence. She could hardly believe what he had just said, because she didn’t remember the last time he’d said it. She couldn’t even recall if he had ever said it.

 

“...Come...again?”   

 

“I said I’m forbidding you from auditioning for the play and interacting with that doomed woman because I love you.”  

 

Then he sighed, “Grell, you know I am terrible with emotions. They confuse me and frustrate me because I have difficulty understanding them. Which is why I have trouble showing them correctly. But I do care. I care about work--probably more than I should--but I care about you too. I have seen what reaping humans that are part of the LGBT community do to you. And as much as it inconveniences your work...it also is difficult for me to watch you go through emotions I can’t understand. Because I can tell you’re upset and I do not know how to help you.”  

 

For once, the redhead was speechless.

 

“I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t love you, Grell.”  

 

“William...I…” Her eyes welled with tears, which she frustratingly wiped away, “...Uggh...these damn hormones!”

 

William hid his brief chuckle behind his hand. There was rustle of papers as the the large packet with the script and play contract hit the floor, and Grell was moving in for an embrace and a deep kiss. She felt her happiness resurface again when she knew she wouldn’t be spending the night alone.

 

-xXx-

 

**_The Next Morning_ **

 

Grell awoke to the biting air touching her bare shoulders and the sound of her vibrating cell phone amplified by her wooden nightstand. She was feeling quite tired, and wondering why she was being woken up early on a Sunday.

 

She rolled over on her back and pulled her phone off the nightstand and turned on the home screen. She had received a text from Chaplin.

 

The message read: **_Do you want to go shopping with me today? I’ve nothing better to do and I need some time to enjoy myself. But it’d be more fun if I had a friend to go with._ **

 

 _Oh…_ Here she planned on doing something with her husband today but...

 

...And just when William told her not to get involved...just when they had reached an understanding...But the temptation was too terrible. Especially considering the fact that Chaplin was like one of her only female friends and the one she related to the most. Not to mention William didn’t like to go shopping...Grell knew she’d have way more fun with Chaplin…

 

She typed a response half without thinking.

 

**_That sounds like fun._ **

 

A few moments later she received a reply.

 

**_Perfect. What time would you like to go?_ **

 

Grell glanced at her bedside clock. It was a quarter after eight. She needed time to walk the dog, eat breakfast and get herself ready.

 

**_How about around noon? We can get luncheon first._ **

 

Within mere moments, her cell phone vibrated again.

 

**_That sounds good. If you want to meet me at my flat we can take the tube to the city and a bus to Westfield London._ **

 

Since she could get around much easier via her own speed and agility, Grell was not too keen on using the stuffy, crowded public transportation. However, she did not want to blow her cover. She could fit in easy enough with the humans, she thought, and she did not want Chaplin to be more suspicious than she probably already was. So, she supposed she could agree with this. She typed a response:  

 

**_That sounds fun! Though we should probably meet slightly earlier than that since we’re taking the train to London._ **

 

**_How’s 11:00 for you?_ **

 

 **_Alright then! I’ll see you soon, darling!_ **

 

**_See you soon!_ **

 

Grell put down her phone and then rolled back over. She laid there for a few seconds, before deciding to get up. William was still asleep beside her. So, she decided to have breakfast ready for him when he got up.

 

She got out of bed, stumbling slightly. She was a bit sore. Charlie lifted his head to briefly glance at her, before lying back down in his blonde and white ball.

 

She grabbed her red dressing gown and put it over her short, fur-hemmed sheer negligee, without bothering to tie it closed. Instead she let it hang open and swish about her as she moved.

 

She went out into the main part of the apartment and headed into the kitchen to make breakfast. She opted to make American biscuits, eggs, and hash-brown patties. She decided to make sunny side up eggs this morning instead of scrambled. It was safe to say that she had considerably improved her cooking over the few two full centuries and counting that she had been around.

 

She was nearly done with breakfast when William finally woke up. He walked out quietly, still in his striped pajamas, with the three-year-old corgi trotting behind him. The kitchen smelled of salty potatoes, freshly-baked biscuits, and sunnyside up eggs, with the delicious smell of coffee overpowering everything else.

 

“Morning.” William said, voice slightly hoarse and his dark hair tousled from sleep. He walked into the kitchen and Grell greeted him with a morning kiss. His hand briefly lingered at her hip before he fed the dog and then sat down at the round table. She set his cup of coffee at his place.

 

“Breakfast is almost ready.” she said, flipping the hash-browns one last time and removing the eggs from the heat.

 

“Will, darling, can you get out the butter and jam for me?”

 

“Yes. I suppose.” he got out of his chair and went to the fridge to get the requested items.  

 

“Thank you!”

 

Moments later, Grell sat down across from William at her normal seat on the small table. They ate in a companionable silence for awhile, until Grell broke it.

 

“William, I’m going out this afternoon.”

 

“Oh.” _Was that a slight hint of disappointment she caught in his voice?_ “Where are you going?”

 

“Shopping with a friend. I’ll be back early this evening. What are you going to do?”

 

“I’m going to get ahead on some paperwork.”

 

“Of course. Don’t work too hard though.”

 

William adjusted his glasses and didn’t really respond.

 

They finished their breakfast and tidied up the kitchen together before Grell went into the bathroom to get herself ready to go and spend the day with Chaplin. She had showered last night, so there was no need for that. So, she just brushed her teeth, brushed her hair, and took her hormones. Then, she picked her outfit for the day. Since it was late fall, early winter, she picked black tights, knee high black boots, a form-fitting, red knit, off-the-shoulder sweater dress and her favorite red coat. She also grabbed her plaid patterned red, black, and grey scarf. Once she had chosen her outfit, she laid it neatly on her bed with her boots on the floor beside it. Having shed her sheer, fur-hemmed dressing gown, she stood in front of her mirror in her little negligee and did her make-up. She started with the base, ensuring that she covered the freckles that dotted her cheeks before she put on her blush, lashes, eyeliner, mascara, and bright red lipstick.

 

Once she was satisfied, she got dressed, grabbed her purse, and was ready to head out the door just in time. She said goodbye to her husband, who was already typing away on his keyboard, and left the apartment complex, making her way through the portal from the reaper realm into the living realm.

 

Once she’d arrived in Brighton, she took a glance at Chaplin’s address. It was in Bedford Square, a short distance from Brighton Station and  a few blocks down from the theatre she worked at. It was also just off the seafront as well.

 

She picked the correct apartment number number, and entered through the doors on the ground floor. She walked up the flight of stairs to the second level, with no patience to wait for the elevator. She used the aged bronze knocker in the middle of the door to make Chaplin aware of her presence.

 

Within a few seconds, she heard the woman’s voice from the other side of the door. “I’ll be there in one moment.” The sound of shoes thumping softly across the floor was heard and the door clicked and opened. Chaplin stood at the door with her purse in hand. She was wearing a peacock printed ruana over a long-sleeved purple shirt, dark colored skinny jeans and boots. She smiled softly at the familiar sight of her red-haired friend.

 

“Hi~” Grell greeted.

 

“Hey. How are you?”

 

“Lovely! And you?”

 

“I’m doing well. I’m definitely ready to do some shopping.”

 

“Same. It’s been awhile since I’ve bought something new.”

 

She opened her mouth as if she  was going to say something else, but was caught off guard when something touched her leg.

 

“Hmm?” She looked down. She was met with a pair of sharp amber eyes, and in front of her was a humongous, fluffy cat with peach colored fur. It had emerged from behind Chaplin’s leg, curious about the newcomer.  

 

“Oh, hello there.” Grell greeted. She crouched to the large cat’s level and slowly reached out to pet it. It immediately leaned into the affection and purred, “Who might you be?” she asked.

 

“That’s Momo.” Chaplin said, “He’s basically my significant other at this point. He’s the only person that shares my bed at night.”

“Oh, so you don't have a partner then?”

 

She shook her head, “I’m taking a break from dating and focusing on me.”

  


“Fair.” Grell commented.

 

There was a short block of silence before she said: “I don’t think I have ever seen a cat this big.”

 

Chaplin chuckled, “He’s a Maine Coon so it would make sense that he’s so big.”

 

“Bassy would be drooling over him.” Grell said half to herself, as she scratched the cat’s head.

 

“...Bassy?” Chaplin echoed.

 

“Oh!” Grell’s green gaze met the warm brown one, “He’s an old interest of mine. I haven’t heard from him in awhile though.” She was lost in silent thought for a moment before she spoke aloud once more and  she said, “He was never very kind to me…”

 

Chaplin was about to say something empathetic, but Grell spoke first.

 

“...So~ shall we go?”

 

“I’m ready if you are.” Chaplin replied.

 

“Oh yes, definitely.” Grell got back into a standing position.

 

Chaplin called to her cat. He trotted over to her and rubbed up against her leg. She briefly scratched his ears. Satisfied, he went back into the flat and she closed and locked the door after he had hopped up onto the couch.

 

With that, the two made their way towards the staircase, and Grell was left wondering who would take care of Momo when Chaplin passed on.   

 

-xXx-  


Together, they made the short walk to Brighton Station, engaged in pleasant conversation. They looked at the timetable. The train was due to depart at noon, which was in about in about twenty or so minutes. They got their tickets, and then sat together on an unoccupied bench next to the train platform to arrive. As people passed them on both sides, they got a few looks from passerbys. Grell smiled and waved, and Chaplin stared down at her cell phone and avoided their gazes. She didn’t want to see people whispering or making fun of her. This was the same case when they sat side by side on the train.

 

“Mummy, are those two people boys or girls?” a young girl sitting across from them asked her mother too loudly.

 

“Don’t be rude, sweetie.”

 

Chaplin sighed. This sort of situation happened much less frequently than it had, but of course it still bothered her.

 

“We’re both ladies, dearie.” Grell responded.

 

The young woman apologized for her daughter’s sake.

 

“It’s alright.”   Grell reassured. Chaplin glanced up from her phone and smiled weakly.  

 

-xXx-

An hour later, the train pulled to a stop at the London station. Grabbing their purses, the two women followed the crowd out of the train. Once they were in town, they hailed a cab and had the cabbie transport them to Westfield London. They were dropped off at the front entrance. They hopped out of the cab and walked in through the large double doors.

 

“Lunch first?” Grell suggested.

 

“That sounds fine to me.” the blonde agreed, “Where do you want to eat? I’ve only been to this mall a couple of times so I don’t remember what’s actually here.”

 

“How about some light Italian food?” Grell suggested, “We can go to Caffé Nero.”

 

“That sounds good to me.”

 

With that, they made their way to the cafe. It wasn’t much of a walk, and they didn’t have to take the escalator to the second floor yet. They were greeted by a friendly hostess, who took them to a window booth and set their menus down for them. They ordered water at first, and then proceeded to look over the menu. It didn’t take long for them to decide what they wanted. Chaplin ordered a Chai latte and chicken caesar salad, and Grell ordered a caramel latte, since she wasn’t fond of tea and a chicken, mozzarella, tomato, and basil baguette. While they enjoyed their second luncheon together, they engaged themselves in pleasant conversation.

 

However, they were interrupted when a voice sounded near them. “Oi! Ms. Sutcliff!” She turned the direction of the noise. A familiar, energetic voice and a that belonged to a younger reaper with blonde and brown hair and large rimmed glasses greeted her. He was waving from a table a few tables down and across from them, smiling brightly. There seemed to be a couple of friends with him, seated at the table across from him. He was a bit older now, but he still possessed his carefree, sociable, happy-go-lucky personality. She smiled and returned the gesture.

 

The young man got up and made his way to the Chaplin and Grell’s table. He winked flirtatiously at the youthful-looking blonde woman and then faced his red-haired mentor. He rested an elbow on the back of Chaplin’s seat.

 

“Hi~ I’m Ronald Knox.” in his cockney drawl, the younger reaper introduced himself to Chaplin.

 

“Hi.” she responded, “Chaplin Sukegawa.”

 

“We should go out for a drink sometime.”

 

“Umm….” the blonde woman blushed.

 

Grell cleared her throat loudly, “Ahem. You’re making her uncomfortable.”

 

“Right, sorry.” he stopped leaning on the booth.

 

“Sorry about him, Chaplin. This is Ronald Knox. He was an old protegee of mine.”

 

“Oh! Well, it’s nice to meet you.” the blonde said politely.

 

“Likewise.” the blonde reaper smiled, then he turned to face his mentor, “Anyway, how are you, Ms. Sutcliff? Haven’t seen you in awhile.”

 

“I’m fine. Yourself?”

 

“Doing just great. Just spendin’ the day with me mates since I don’t have any work.”

 

“You and I both.”

 

“So, how’s the husband?” Ronald asked curiously.

 

“He’s fine. You know him. Always working.”

 

“Right. Of course. I don’t even know how he does it.”

 

“Neither do I.” Grell replied, “He just likes it I guess.”

 

“Should be payin’ more attention to you, I think.”

 

“Me too. But what can I do? I’m just glad to be married to him, is all.”

 

_Are you, though?_

 

She sighed, “Anyway. What else have you been up to?”

 

“Y’know, the usual. Work, hangin’ out with me mates, tryin’ to find that special someone.”  

 

“You’ll find them one day, honey. Let me know if you ever need love advice.”

 

“Right!” he glanced back at his table, “Well, looks like my food arrived. I’ll see you around Ms. Sutcliff.”

 

“Bye-bye now, Ronald, dear.” She waved daintily and he returned the gesture, joining his friends at their table.  

 

“So you’re married, then?” Chaplin seemed curious.

 

“I am. My husband and I have been together for a long time, but we’ve only been married four going on five years in February. We got married on Valentine’s Day.”  

 

“Lovely! How romantic.”

 

“Yes it is...” she trailed off, voice fading, along with some of her cheerfullness.   

 

“...Wait, if you’re married, how come that boy called you Ms. Sutcliff?”

 

“Oh, he’s just used to calling me that. He’s still getting used to the fact I’m Mrs. Sutcliff-Spears. Force of habit I suppose.”

 

Chaplin nodded.

 

A waiter came and set down their food.

 

There was a bit of silence, and Chaplin thought Grell seemed a bit unhappy all of the sudden.

 

“Anyway…what are you after when we shop today?” the redhead changed the subject to something more light-hearted.

 

“I’m not quite sure. I think I want some new dresses, but we’ll see.”

 

“That sounds lovely. I’ve had my eyes on this gorgeous red and black dress I saw awhile back.”

 

“It would definitely suit you.

 

“Oh yes. I won’t settle for any clothing that doesn’t have red in it.” again, her cheerfulness and her sharp-toothed smile returned.

 

Chaplin chuckled awkwardly. She would _never_ have guessed that. The passed few times she’d seen her, the other woman had some sort of red and black in her outfit. She briefly compared this to the fact that at least one article she was wearing had to be reminiscent of a peacock, whether it be her favorite peacock earrings, or a peacock printed something.

 

-xXx-

 

Once they’d finished their lunch, the two women got up and began walking through the endless white hallways of the inside of the mall. As they walked down the white-tiled maze of hallways, shops and people passed on either side- from couples to teenagers to families to young adults. Around them, the ambience of mumbled conversation and soft pop music was ever-prominent in the air.  In each of the shops they walked into, the pleasant conversations, laughter, and music from filled the environment. It was definitely a relaxing environment to be in.

However, with every couple and family with young children that passed them, Grell seemed to lose her usual spark of cheeriness. Chaplin had noticed it a multitude of times throughout the entirety of the day, as they went from store to store. It was not until later, when they had sat down on some couches with their pile of bags that she finally decided to question her about it.

 

“Grell?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Are you alright?”    

  


“Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

 

“Your cheeriness just seemed off and on today. You...seemed a bit sad every time a couple or a family with young children passed.”  

 

“Oh…” Grell seemed slightly taken aback, almost as if she was surprised someone had noticed.

 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I don’t want to pry. I just want to help. Back in Japan, I was essentially the group counselor among my friends. I saw myself as a bright figure, and I just wanted to be there for everyone to help them and give advice, you know? So if you want to talk about something, you can.”

 

Grell felt a lump form in her throat that she forced away. She’d known this woman for only about a week or so, but she already seemed to care about her so much. No one had ever been so kind and caring to her before. In the past all she ever received were statements like “annoying, perverted, revolting, over emotional, over dramatic, and useless”.

 

She was open about her feelings, but when she shared them she felt like no one listened. Until now. She wished she could share everything that had ever upset her and made her miserable. But Chaplin was not a therapist, and she did not want to dump every single one of her issues onto her. She knew the woman had issues of her own to deal with. So, she merely decided to answer the question at hand.     

“Well, my husband is a workaholic, so we barely spend time together. We never go out...or celebrate our birthdays or anniversary much. I see all these couples spending time together- going out, holding hands and it makes me sad. When I dreamed of having a man in my life that was what I always thought of. Being together, doing cute things like that. But reality proved cruel, as it always does and always will. We don’t do any of that. We go to work, we come home, he does more work, while I watch movies and go to bed. On the weekends I usually get sent out with a “Honey Do” list while he continues to do work. I know he loves me but...I just wish we could spend more time together and go out like normal couples do. I mean, sometimes we spend long nights together but that’s not often.” Grell sighed, “I just miss him, you know?”

 

Chaplin nodded, “Marriages and relationships like that are always so difficult for someone to be in. Have you tried talking to him about your feelings?”

 

Grell sighed, “Yes. I have-- sort of...not directly...or without getting over emotional. He doesn’t get it. He’s quite cold and does not understand how to deal with emotions very well, and he continues to prioritize work high above everything else and the things that really matter. Often when I try to...he gets upset with me, tells me to stop complaining and being overdramatic, proceeds to lecture me about the importance of work and then tells me to straighten out my priorities.”

 

“Well! Rude! That’s no way for a man to speak to a woman!”

 

Grell shrugged, “I’m used to it by now. It stems from the fact that he’s also my manager too. We work for the same association and I’m his subordinate. It is his job to be straitlaced and cold. That’s just the way he is. His cold-heartedness is what makes him so charming to me. Cold and cruel is just my type, I suppose.”

 

“Maybe that’s his job as a manager, but he’s also your husband. He shouldn’t be giving you a cold shoulder all the time.”

 

“He doesn’t...not always...sometimes he’s actually quite affectionate and sweet. He’s not the best at showing he cares...but he still does.”

 

“When though? When it’s convenient for him?” Chaplin’s mild-mannered voice had suddenly gone defensive.

 

Grell looked at her with a hint of surprise.  

 

Realizing what she had just said, she flushed in embarrassment and apologized. “I’m sorry, it’s just that...the last relationship I had was neglectful too, so I really feel strongly about it because it hurt me a lot.”

 

“I understand.” Grell replied, “We really do love each other though...it’s just hard to spend time together...I really want to make things better though…”

 

“If he really does love you, he’ll listen to what you have to say.” Chaplin pointed out honestly, “I would try talking to him again. Catch him at a time when you guys are sitting together. Start out by saying, “I really miss this, I wish we could spend more time together.””

 

Grell nodded. She had not really tried doing it that way before. “Thank you, Chaplin. I will.”

The blonde took a deep breath and smiled, “Of course. Helping girls in love is one of my special skills, if I do say so myself.”

 

The redhead smiled.

 

“Thanks, I feel a lot better.”

 

“Of course. Let me know how it goes. And if you need any help, that’s what I’m here for.”

 

“Thank you much, really.” Grell said again, “Ahem. Anyway. I think I’ve had enough shopping for the day, how about you?”

 

“Yes. I was just about to say the same thing. I actually have to do some last minute things to make sure everything for the auditions tomorrow is in order.” Chaplin agreed, “Speaking of which, are you still planning on auditioning?”

 

“Oh!” Grell had nearly forgotten about it, and being reminded about it made her feel torn and guilty. William had told her not to and she said that she wouldn’t. But she didn’t want to disappoint her friend either. There was also the fact that she still very much wanted to audition as well. So, with that in mind, she immediately gave into her own wants, and she thought to herself: _Forget about what William says, he won’t even notice if I do it or not. As long as I stay on top of my work, it won’t be a problem._ “Of course! I’m looking forward to it.”

 

Chaplin smile, delighted. “Good, I’m glad!” It was then that Grell noticed that she had one of those bright-eyed, wide smiles that could light up a room. It was one of those smiles that was completely, utterly genuine, and so full of youth and life that it could cheer anyone up. It definitely brightened up the redhead’s mood.

 

It lasted for a few moments, and then faded back into a resting face. And Grell was once again met with the grim reminder that soon that smile would fade forever.

 

 _Four months._ Echoed her brain, _Four months._

 

Dammit.


	4. Chapter V: The Audition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry it's been awhile. I didn't actually expect people to read this, so I'm glad a few people have. I will continue to update this so you all can continue to read it!

  1. The Audition



 

Chaplin.

 

She sat cross-legged in the middle of her king-sized bed. Her cat was curled in a peach colored ball beside her, and a half-gone ramen bowl was on a tray on her other side, with a pair of chopsticks sticking out of the top. She had just gotten out of the shower, and she was wearing her favorite pair of pajamas- mint colored pants and a matching spaghetti strap top. She’d put her wig on its stand, so now her dark hair was exposed. Her messy fringe had come back, and now fell just above her eyes. The hair itself ended just below the ears and looked like an androgynous pixie cut.

 

She ran her fingers through the short strands as she typed a few last minute notes up for the auditions tomorrow on her laptop. She was in the process of going through and ordering all of the contract forms she’d received via email and via hard copies based on the audition time list she’d created a week or so ago. There were a lot them, and for that she was glad. The show was definitely a very popular and well-known one, so it only made sense that there were an abundance of hopeful auditioners.

 

She finished typing, read over her notes to double check them, and then printed them out using the wireless she had on her desk. Once she’d finished that, she turned off and closed her laptop and plugged it in to charge, and then finished her dinner. She then did what dishes she had, made herself a cup of tea and went outside on her little balcony for a smoke break.

 

It was biting cold this evening, so she was wearing a wool cardigan sweater and a throw blanket around her shoulders as she sat outside and watched the bustling city below whilst she exhaled smoke.

 

She sighed. She’d been trying to quit for awhile. She knew it was bad for her health. She’d been limiting herself, which she felt accomplished about, and she hoped that slowly she’d ease her way out of it.

 

After a couple of puffs, she took the cigarette out of her golden vintage cigarette holder and put it in her ash tray. She coughed, took a sip of her tea, and looked out at the bustling city around her. Even though it was dark, and later into the night, as the old saying goes “the city never sleeps” and indeed it didn’t. Lights were still on all around, cars drove passed through the always-existing puddles of water on the streets, with the sound of them passing ever prominent, a horn honked, and a dog barked off in the distance. And if she listened very closely, she could hear the sound of the waves and the seagulls from the beach close by. She’d lived in the city all her life, and the ambience she had grown used to was relaxing to her.

 

She adjusted her glasses and let herself zone out for awhile while she listened to the city noises. The wind ruffled her hair and kissed the back of her exposed neck.

 

Suddenly, though, her eyes caught sight of something on the buildings across from her. It was a shadowy appearance of what appeared to be a human-like figure. They were moving very quickly, leaping in short bounds across the tops of the buildings with astounding agility. The figure started far off in the shadows, but with every bound, drew closer in front of her. Closer. Closer. Closer. Chaplin could not tear her gaze away. In an instant, it seemed, the being was right in front of her. With a powerful leap through the sky from one building top to the next, they were briefly illuminated by the full moon and the billion stars. It was so brief that Chaplin couldn’t make out most of their features. That was except one. The piercing pair of catlike, yellow-green phosphorescent eyes. Her heart fell to her stomach, and it was as if her entire body grew cold, a shiver rippled through her spine, and her heartbeat skipped with terror as they met with hers, flashing in the eerie, milky light of the moon, before they disappeared into the night.

 

_What the H**l did I just see?_ Those eyes. Grell’s eyes. Those terrible, all-seeing eyes. For some reason, there was nothing that made her more frightened than those chilling orbs that felt as though they burned right into her soul and could see right through her...through her exterior into the darkest parts of who she was.

 

She both hated and adored those eyes. Those eyes that were so fascinating and so terrifying. Those eyes that seemed to have their own darkness about them. Those eyes that filled her with an unspeakable terror she could scarcely understand.

 

She couldn’t bear it. This encounter...whatever had just happened left her frazzled and horrified. She didn’t know who or what that was even though she had initially thought it was Grell. Who else could it have been? Besides for that energetic young man they’d met at the mall today, no one else but Grell had eyes like those. But it didn’t look like her, which was the problem. If it had been Grell, she would have seen long hair buffeting out behind the figure when they leapt through the air, but she hadn’t. Which was why she was so confused and paranoid now.

 

Immediately, she grabbed her cigarette and its holder, went inside and closed and locked the door, drawing the curtains over it. The city ambience and the outside world was cold, unwelcoming, and foreboding to her now and those eyes would not leave her mind.

 

The day following her encounter, after her acting class, Chaplin would spend the entirety of the evening at the theatre going through auditions. They were scheduled from 16:00-21:00, with a break halfway through. She had scheduled them to last so long because there were a lot of people to get through, and she wanted to be sure that there was plenty of time for those who were listed, and for others who had not turned in forms but still wanted to audition.

 

Before the auditions started, she walked a couple blocks down to the cafe to get a coffee, which she drank inside her office.   

  

Once she had finished drinking her coffee, it was nearly time to kick off the auditions. She made her way into the green room backstage. There were already groups of people assembled, practicing their monologues and scripts.

 

She waited a few moments and clapped her hands together to get everyone’s attention. The room fell silent and all gazes turned to her.

 

“Hello everyone!” she greeted, with a bright smile, “Thank you so much for coming to audition for _Romana and Juliet._ I know you’ll all do amazing and I wish I could cast every single one of you. However, I can only cast a certain number of people, so keep that in mind. But also, it’s important to know that there are plenty of shows and musicals in the future, so just because you may not make the cut this time, there’s always other opportunities. Remember, if you’re nervous, take deep breaths and repeat to yourself “I can do this”, and give it your best. In a few minutes, I’m going to open up the backstage doors and begin calling names. In the meantime…” she set the large plate of chocolate chip cookies she had made on the long table in the the middle of the green room floor. “I brought some cookies for you to enjoy while you wait.”

 

There were cheers.

 

“...But don’t take more than two please. I still have other groups after you.”  

 

She took the cling wrap off the top and tossed it in the garbage can across the room, “Enjoy everyone! And break a leg!” and with that, she made her way back into the theatre. Soon enough, it was time for auditions to begin.

* * *

Grell.   


Grell was getting ready to leave the office and go out into the field. She was putting on her coat, actually, when someone entered her office.

 

“Oi! Grell! I’m glad I caught you before you left.”

 

The redhead huffed when the short, lab coat-wearing grim reaper with wild green hair flew in, sliding on his slippers across the floor and nearly crashing into her.

 

“I was _trying_ to leave. What is it, Othello? And why were you running?”

 

“I was afraid you’d leave if I didn’t hurry. Anyway, William wanted me to tell you that he needs you to cover tonight. One of the other reapers went home sick. She had three souls to reap.”

“What!? I can’t! I have plans tonight! You’re going to have to go and tell my husband that he’s going to have to find someone else.”

 

Then she scoffed and said half to herself, “He’s too busy “working” he can’t even tell me himself, WELL!”

 

“I’d’ve given you all the attention in the world if you’d married me.” Othello commented.

 

Grell glared at her short friend.

 

“S-sorry! I know you don’t like when I say that...” the green-haired reaper blushed, “...Umm, out of curiosity, what were you planning on doing tonight?”

 

“Not telling~” Grell singsonged.

 

“Wha--”

 

The redhead laughed half-heartedly, “I’m messing with you, Othello. Anyways...I’m actually scheduled as the next to last audition slot for the play at the local community theatre in Brighton this evening. I’m auditioning for Juliet.”

 

“Oh! That’s cool.”

 

“Yes. And now you see why I can’t be out working. However, I can’t tell William that because he’ll start to question too much and I don’t want him to find out.”

 

“Is it because he doesn’t want you auditioning?”

 

Grell sighed, “Yes. It’s the same lecture every time. He always brings it back around to my “inability to properly balance work and hobbies”. Thank you for pointing out the obvious.”

 

The other reaper rubbed the back of his neck, “That...really sucks.”

 

The redhead huffed. “I’ll have to check the time slots for the deaths, I suppose. Anyway, I have to get going. I have souls to reap. Good day, Othello.” and a flustered Grell left, leaving her friend standing in the middle of her office floor staring after her.

 

“Okay...I’ll just leave the “To-Die” List bookmarked and on your desk then…”

 

There was another sigh, but this time it came from Othello as he gazed after the transwoman he could never have as his own.

-xXx-

_Later..._

 

William walked through the door on time for once. Grell was sitting on the couch with Charlie, still in work clothes. Her iconic red coat was draped over the back of the couch, and she was seated in her blouse and black pencil skirt, with the starch white shirt untucked from her skirt and the top buttons of it undone. She was in a repose, and her cheek rested in her hand. She stared blankly in front of her, with a frowning expression on her face.

 

“Honestly? Are you sulking about overtime, now?” William asked, “You usually like when you’re given more souls to collect.”

 

“Well hello to you too, Will.” Grell replied, shooting her husband a glare upon his cold-hearted response, “Nice of you to greet me like a “normal” husband this evening.”

 

He adjusted his glasses, “Honestly. Your mood swings lately are not very professional.”

 

“You don’t like it when your plans are ruined either!”

 

“What plans? You never told me anything.”

 

“I...was going to go out with Othello to the Cinema...yeah!” she made up something, “We were supposed to go and see that one nerd movie about the war in the galaxy “far, far away” or something.”  

 

“I see.” William once again adjusted his glasses, “You might still be able to go, you know. If you work diligently, the reapings can be done by 8:30. Haven’t you looked at the scheduled times?”  

 

_I know. That gives me less than thirty minutes to finish up and get to the audition. Just great._

 

“Yes I have.” she replied, “But why overtime, Will? Why would you make your wife work more!? And tonight of all nights. You _never_ give me overtime.”

 

“You know,” Will began suspiciously, “You seem awfully upset about not going to see that movie, especially considering the fact that you aren’t overly fond of the franchise anyways. Whenever a new one came about, you’d come up with every excuse possible _not_ to go. It’s odd.”

 

“W-well th-the new ones are more enjoyable! I love seeing strong leading ladies and you know it.” Grell made up another excuse, “And anyway, it’s been awhile since Othello went out together anyways.”

 

“You went out last week.”    

 

_Sh*t!_ She was digging too deep of a hole.

 

“Well I forgot. It seems like a while ago. Anyway, why overtime again?” she changed the subject.

 

“Because you’re a good reaper. Better than the other incompetent numbskulls I’m in charge of.” 

 

“What? A genuine compliment!? From you? How unusual.”

 

William sighed. Why was she so surprised? Was it not common for a husband to dote upon his wife?  

 

“Honestly. You’re my wife. I’m supposed to compliment you. Anyway. You should probably get going, don’t you have a soul to reap in about an hour?”

 

“An hour and a half. And I’m already ready to go. I retrieved the other To-Die list from my office. I just have to touch up my makeup.” she moved Charlie from her lap to the cushion beside her and got up, making her way to the back of the flat to get ready to leave.

* * *

Chaplin.

Later That Night

 

The auditions were winding down. Chaplin was both satisfied and disappointed. It was almost the end of the night and there hadn’t been any sign of Grell at all. It was also getting close to her scheduled audition time slot as well. The Japanese woman tried in vain not to let it bother her, especially considering the fact that Grell struck her as sort of a carefree woman who always seemed to get what need be done at the last possible minute it could be done. This drew her to the conclusion that Grell _would_ show up...at some point...perhaps...but in the back of her mind she was still feeling anxious. _What if Grell didn’t show up? If she didn’t show she couldn’t audition. If she didn’t audition she couldn’t even be considered for a role. If she wasn’t considered for a role, she couldn’t get a role. If she didn’t get a role, she couldn’t be in the play. If she wasn’t in the play Chaplin wouldn’t get to spend as much time with her because she’d be too busy with rehearsals. If she couldn’t  more time with her and get to know her better...if she didn’t get to know her better then…_ Ugghh.

 

The blonde’s brain was all hazy. But why? Why did she care about this peculiar redhead so much? One, they were both transgender so they could relate, as they both had similar insecurities and both were currently in the process of transitioning into complete women. Two, they both seemed to be a bit lonely. Grell, with her neglectful husband, and Chaplin with all her friends back in Japan. Three, Grell was Chaplin’s only friend in England, her coworkers didn’t count. Four, she’d taken quite a liking to the redhead. She was cheerful and funny, energetic, optimistic, sassy... _and hot. I’d--_

 

Wait what!?   _Oh no! Erase that thought from your head THIS INSTANT, Sukegawa. She is a MARRIED woman! Whether you like her husband or not, you can’t be thinking like that. If you think like that, you’re as bad as_ **_them…_ **

 

_...You imitation bimbo…_

_Faking, faking…_

 

_STOP!_

 

She needed a smoke break.

* * *

Grell.   


_Completed_. Grell marked the page of the “To-Die” list with the red stamp. She closed the book and checked the time: it was 8:40. _Sh*t!_ Her audition was scheduled for 8:45. She was going to miss it!

 

She closed the book and shoved it under her arm, carrying her personally modified Death Scythe in the other. She had had in her mind to return the objects to the reaper realm after her overtime. But at this rate, she had absolutely no time.

 

Leaping from roof to roof faster than she usually did, her heartbeat pounded in her ears and the biting night air chilled the skin on her face and neck as the wind from her speed buffeted in drafts all around her and through her long red hair. Everything flashed about her so rapidly, that she could barely see in front of her face. Any person who suffered from any sort of motion sickness would be hurling and light-headed at this point.

 

She was actually feeling a minute lightheadedness as well, and her mind was frazzled. Every so often she’d glance at the time on her phone, and it stressed her out even more. It was as if the sound of her heartbeat in her ears were the seconds counting down the few short minutes she had. _I have to make it. I’m going to make it…_

* * *

  
Chaplin.   


 

8:45 came and went. When Chaplin went into the green room and didn’t receive a response from Grell when she called her name, her heart sank. There was no sign of her anywhere.

 

She even waited a couple of minutes, but it seemed that the ginger was a no-show. So, with a heavy heart, she had to move on to the next person. There were about four or five people she still had to get through. With each one that passed, she went out into the green room just hoping that Grell would come crashing through the door. She’d come bursting in out of breath, but still with that sharp-toothed smile of hers. But she didn’t. It was both confusing and disappointing. Grell had seemed more excited to audition then many of the other auditioners, and for her to just not show up just seemed so uncharacteristic of her. She was disappointed because she had looked forward to casting her into the show and looked forward to her audition, since the woman was already theatrical in nature, what with the way she carried herself and the way she spoke. It was such a shame, she was so upset.

 

-xXx-  

“...Well, looks like that’s everyone.” the assistant director declared, “I think it went quite well! There were a lot of good auditions this time around. It’s gonna be hard to choose. Don’t you think, Chaplin?”

 

The Japanese woman had spaced out staring at the empty stage.

 

“Hmm?”

 

The assistant director repeated herself, “I said that it went really well and it’s gonna be hard to choose.”

 

“Oh, yeah.” Chaplin smiled, trying to hide her disappointment, “But that’s not everyone though. I still have one more scheduled audition. When she came to the theatre the other day, I saw so much potential in her. I don’t want to give up on her just yet. Let’s give it a few more minutes.”

 

“Who?” asked one of the other judges.

 

“Grell Sutcliff.”

 

This time, the director of _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ , Professor Adkins, chimed in. “Is that by chance a lad- pardon me-a lass with glasses and bright red hair?”  

 

“Y-yes?” Chaplin scrutinized him, slightly befuddled.

 

“She’s been doing plays here since I started working here when I was young. She’s been late to almost all of her auditions, but she’s done them flawlessly. It’s been years, but, she hasn’t seemed to have aged hardly at all. Strange, that lassie is.” he said half to himself.

 

_That is strange…_ Now, she was even more peculiar than Chaplin first thought. Exactly how old was she? The other director was at almost fifty. So how old was Grell exactly? She looked to be in her early thirties like Chaplin herself was.

 

“How late is she this time?” he questioned.

 

“Her audition was at 8:45.” Chaplin replied.

 

“It’s currently 9:16. So she’s an entire half-hour late then.” scoffed the anal theatre manager, who had also been a judge, “...That woman. She’s pulled this so many times. But she’s never been thirty minutes late. I’m tired of waiting on her. We should call it a night.”

 

Chaplin opened her mouth to protest, but Professor Adkins beat her to it.

 

“With all due respect, director.” Professor Adkins began, “She’s never missed an audition, even though she’s almost always late. You and I both know how good she is.”

 

He huffed, “You’re right, I suppose. Fine. Your call, director. This is your production.” he was addressing Chaplin now.  

 

“Let’s give her until 9:30. If...she doesn’t show up, then you can all go home.”

 

There were mumbles of agreement. It seemed that the only person who wanted to stay was Professor Adkins. But still, she wasn’t about to give up on Grell.

 

For a few moments, they sat in silence, before Chaplin excused herself for her much-needed smoke break that she hadn’t taken today.

 

-xXx-

 

She sat on the outside stone steps of the theatre and smoked in silence. Her coat was drawn tightly around her shoulders, and she listened to the ambient cityscape noises around her. She blew the foul-scented tobacco from her mouth and sighed. Oh, how long of a day this had been. She stared blankly ahead across the street, and ever so often gazed up at the rooftops, watching taxicabs and other vehicles passing through the small road that was always wet. While she sat, she got lost in her thoughts, and she silently hoped that whatever divine power there was above that Grell would show her pretty, red-framed faced. Every so often, she would glance at the time. The minutes seemed to tick slowly by, which she was glad of.

 

It seemed like she was out there for ages, when her zoning was interrupted by a perky voice.

 

“That’s terrible for your health, you know.” the voice startled her, and she jumped, and exploded into a fit of coughing, whilst she anxiously scanned around for the source of the voice, which she realized belonged to Grell only after the fact. She doused her cigarette and put it in the ashtray by the entry doors behind her.

 

The owner of the voice leapt down from where she had been standing on the theatre roof, and landed gently and gracefully on the stone steps next to Chaplin.

 

The blonde was relieved to see her. “You’re late.” she said with a fake reprimand in her voice.

 

“I know. I’m very late. I’m sorry. My brute of a boss decided to give me overtime without my consent.”

 

“This late at night?”

 

“Yes, unfortunately.”

 

“But isn’t your boss also your husband?” Chaplin questioned, and then put a mint in her mouth.

 

“Yes. According to him he was “rewarding” me about the fact that I’m a good re-uhh- a good worker.” Grell replied, “I just see it as a pain. Anyway, am I too late to audition?”

 

Chaplin checked the time, it was about 9:20.

 

“Oh! No, you’re just in time. The other judges are still waiting inside. Come on.”

 

“Oh! Thank goodness!”

 

 With that, the two women turned and headed inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Othello! I haven't met him in the manga yet but I've read his biography, so I hope his personality is accurate enough. I know he doesn't actually have a crush on Grell in cannon, but I kinda ship them, so yeah. There's no Grellthello in this fic though. The one-sided tiny bit that was in here is about all. 
> 
> And the Star Wars reference...I hope you guys liked that if you caught it. 
> 
> Also, that little bit of lyrics towards the end: "You imitation bimbo...etc", those are lyrics from the full version of a song from the Deadman Wonderland manga. The song had sections featuring each of the "deadmen" and the demons of their past, so to speak. 
> 
> Here's the song if you're interested: 
> 
> Lyrics:  
> http://www4.mangafreak.net/Read1_Deadman_Wonderland_24_24
> 
> Anime Version of the Song  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBfo1vS88yA

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Grell. Willy-kun is not giving you enough attention. 
> 
> ...Sorry about this Grelliam shippers. l do like William and I ship Grelliam too, because he does care about her, he just has a different way of showing it. But I feel like after years of being together, unfortunately, William's workaholic behavior would cause the relationship to function like this.


End file.
